


Survive

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 03:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: Joffrey takes Sansa up to see her father's head. My first GoT/ASOIAF fanfiction!





	Survive

When Joffrey had taken her up to see her father’s head, Sansa thought she would vomit right then and there. But then she remembered that a lady didn’t vomit in front of others, so she swallowed back the bile and focused her stomach to stay still.

  
“No, please no,” she cried as soon as she had realized where Joffrey was taking her and why. She tried to run away, to flee, but Ser Meryn gripped her shoulders tightly and kept her in place.

  
She wanted to cry. This was her once beloved prince who was tormenting her so. Her Prince Joffrey, he was the one who had decided to take her to see her Father’s head. He was the one who decided to make her life miserable and Sansa hated him for it. It was because of him that she was stuck in King’s Landing. Just looking at him now made her sick.

  
“This one’s your father, this one here. Look at him and see what happens to traitors.” Joffrey commanded as he pointed to the heads, looking at her expectantly.

  
“You promised to be merciful,” she cried, remembering how he had promised her in the throne room. He had promised. And she had been foolish enough to believe his lies. She would never make that mistake again.

“I was, I gave him a clean death,” Joffrey stated as he glanced up at the head.

  
Sansa turned her head and refused to look. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

  
“Look at him!”

  
“Please let me go home, I won’t do any treason, I swear,” she begged, but Joffrey cut her off.

  
“Mother says I’m still to marry you so you’ll stay here and obey.”

  
He was determined to see her squirm, determined to punish her by forcing her to look at his prizes. It was too horrible, too terrible. Surely, she would have nightmares about this for the rest of her life.

  
“Look at him!” he shouted.

  
Slowly, she raised her eyes to look at her beloved father’s head. She swallowed hard, and looked at the tarred remains of her father, trying to pretend that it was someone else’s in her mind. Joffrey’s…. Cersei’s… Ilyn Pane’s… anyone else but her father. The head hadn’t rotted like the others that surrounded it, but it didn’t look like her father.

  
She swallowed hard as the seconds turned to minutes. She kept her face calm.

  
“Well?” prompted Joffrey, probably expecting her to hysterically start crying, but she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

  
Instead all she said was, “How long do I have to look?”

  
There was a flash of anger that lingered in Joffrey’s eyes after her inquiry.

  
“As long as it pleases me,” he uttered. He seemed disappointed at her reaction. She met him with silence.

  
“Do you want to see the rest?” he asked her, having grown annoyed with her silence.

  
“If it pleases you, Your Grace,” she spat out through her teeth, her composure like stone.

  
“That’s your Septa there,” he pointed out the head to her. He pointed out the different heads as if they were trophies, and she guessed that they were trophies to Joffrey. He looked excited at the heads, as if they were some sort of conquest for him.

  
“I’ll tell you what, I’m going to give you a present.” He started after she had remained silent for too long for his taste, “After I raise my armies and kill your traitor brother, I'm going to give you his head as well." Joffrey was taunting her. He laughed as he said the threat.

  
Sansa’s eyes snapped up to meet his in a deathly glare.

The words were out of her mouth before they had time to process through her head. They weren’t the words of Lady Sansa; betrothed to her Prince Joffrey, they were the words of a true Stark of Winterfell. A Stark who had lost her home, her father, everything.

  
"Or maybe he'll give me yours,” she growled at him, like a wolf.

  
Shock filled Joffrey’s face. He looked dumbfounded for a moment, as if he was perplexed as to how a stupid girl like herself could even dare to have the gall to threaten him.

  
She thought for a moment he would have Ser Meryn or the Hound kill her on the spot. Just slash her throat or her head off right then and there, and be done with it all.

  
Instead Joffrey said nothing. After a while he stepped forward in disbelief. She wanted to smile, but she knew that only would aggravate him even more. But on the inside, she smiled.

  
“My Mother tells me a King should never strike his lady.” He motioned towards his guard. “Ser Meryn.”

  
The Kingsguard backhanded her cheek, splitting her lip open. Sansa tasted the blood in the mouth. It was slowly dripping down her skin. Her cheek stung, the pain from Ser Meryn’s armor was harsh and raw. She would surely have a bruise from that hit. She knew she deserved it. She had not paid her proper courtesies, but Joffrey had crossed a line. Sometimes a lady couldn’t always keep her courtesies… especially a Lady of Winterfell.

  
She glanced at Joffrey, but he had gotten bored with her and was staring at his trophies with glee.

She took a step and wondered for a moment if she might push him off the edge. It couldn’t make things any worse. She’d probably go to jail, and end up like her Father but at least she would be free of Joffrey and his tormenting. If she just gave him a little push… surely Ser Meryn would punish her, but the Hound would save her. Even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter now. Or maybe Cersei would have her killed. But either way, it wouldn’t matter. She didn’t care enough to live now. What was there to live for? The Lannisters had taken her father, her home, her family, her spirit… why shouldn’t they take her life as well?  
Besides, by getting rid of Joffrey, she’d be doing the realm a favor, really. After all, who truly wanted Joffrey as their King anyways?  
Sansa had once wanted him to be her king, her husband, her one and only, but Joffrey had snuffed those dreams out the moment he had chopped off her Father’s head.

  
She took another step towards him.

  
The Hound stepped forward then, placing a hand on her shoulder, and gave her a handkerchief. She whirled around, surprised at the gesture. She took it gingerly and dabbed at her lip. The blood stained the cloth, reminding Sansa of how her father’s blood had stained the wood on the scaffold after his head had been separated from his neck.

  
“Thank you,” she replied quietly, for a lady never forgot her courtesies. Even dogs and other animals alike deserved some courtesies. And they were all liars and beasts here…. There were no real men left… not since her father had died… and he had been a wolf of Winterfell.

  
Joffrey sighed in agitation, pulling her out of her thoughts, “Will you obey now, or do you need another lesson?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. He departed with Ser Meryn at his heels, “I’ll look for you in court.”

  
A brief moment of silence lasted between her and the Hound.

  
“Save yourself some pain, girl. Give him what he wants. You’ll be needing that again,” said The Hound in a low voice as he gestured towards the cloth. She clutched it in her hand tightly.

  
He left her as well, and for a moment Sansa peered down below. The thought of jumping overtook her again, until her senses came to her.

  
“I am a wolf, a wolf of Winterfell,” she murmured to herself, “and wolves do not fall to their deaths. Wolves survive.”

  
She turned away, but not before taking one last look at her father’s head.

She hoped that one day, for his sake, that the wolves would run the lions out of the forest… and the stags… and all the rest that had hurt her family.

  
After all winter was coming, and only wolves survived in winter.


End file.
